


Tricks-O-Matic

by LexieCarver



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-16 22:23:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11262219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LexieCarver/pseuds/LexieCarver
Summary: Pairing: Gabriel x ReaderBeta: @raspberrymamaWord Count: 2,653A/N: This was written for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing’s SPN Hiatus Writing Challenge- Week 4 with the prompt, “You’re supposed to talk me out of it,” coupled with a gif of a couple dancing in a laundromat. Fluff and humor, just go with it trust me.





	Tricks-O-Matic

[Also posted on Tumblr-](http://roxy-davenport.tumblr.com/post/162091173136/tricks-o-matic)

 

You huffed out a breath. You hated doing laundry. It was the bane of your existence, so you always waited until the last minute when you were down to your last panty to do it. You literally couldn’t wait any longer.

 

You put your laundry in a shopper and wheeled it down the road to the laundromat ignoring the honks directed at you. Of course the bunker’s washer and dryer would break just when the boys left and gave you mountains of dirty clothes. Oh, what fun.

 

You sighed loudly when you were hit in the face with intensely hot air. Not only was it summer but the Laundromat was even hotter, if that were even possible. Who needs a sauna when you can just do laundry?

 

You slowly wheeled your mountain of clothes into the laundromat rather awkwardly might I add, nearly tipping over your entire mountain of clothes on the way in. God forbid someone else would be here to help open the door for you.

 

In a way, having the Laundromat to yourself was kind of nice, if not slightly creepy. You imagined most people would be at jobs at ten in the morning, not half asleep needing to do laundry after discovering they were down to the last panty. Talk about a rude awakening.

 

You stepped in front of a washer yawning, happy to be doing busy work because doing nothing in the bunker but waiting for the boys to come back didn’t sound fun. In fact, if you were being honest, you had no idea what to do with yourself for a week alone in the bunker. Hello, boredom.

 

You quickly put everything in several washers spreading out a little bit as you slowly meandered over to the sorry excuse for chairs that looked as if they’d break the second you sat on them and even worse they were all bright orange to boot. They really matched the yellow wallpaper.

 

You were desperate for a distraction right now from the boring day you were bound to have. You looked at the magazines. As you guessed they were months behind, nothing good.

 

And that’s when the TV turned on, no remote in sight. A note fell off the TV as if a wind blew it but there was no wind. The note said, “Broken.” That made your spidey tense tingle. What the ever-living fuck was going on. You whirled around looking for the culprit. You didn’t smell sulfur or feel a cold chill run down your spine. You walked around the laundromat finding no cold spots. Okay, this was creepy. What was going on?

 

As if in response to your apprehension, the newscaster on the television program seemed to address your concerns. “No need to be afraid, sweet cheeks,” the news announcer said winking at you. There was only one person that called you that and the newscaster looked nothing like him. Eerie. The newscaster actually looked like an underwear model. That guy missed his calling.

 

The emblem behind him said “Fenrir News.” Now that’s an unusual name. You were starting to have a distinct idea who might be doing this. The news announcer winked at you as if he knew that you knew.

 

The news announcer was still looking at you clearly and not the teleprompter. “Before we get into the local news, there’s something I have to say: There is an epidemic sweeping our country with few solutions available. An epidemic of boredom. It’s a horrible condition that leaves the intended victim without the ability to have fun. I know, that sounds truly horrible. The victim is so bogged down by the inability to come up with or do anything fun they just lie there, frustrated. Take this amazing, beautiful woman watching. She’s stuck in a laundromat desperate for a little adventure. It kills me to know just how bored she is and even more upsetting that they didn’t take her on the hunt. That her besties benched her because she’s recovering from a wound on the last hunt. Not cool, right? Her _besties_ sentenced her to a week of boredom. Sounds like they should have some payback when they return. Anywho, Y/N this one’s for you.”

 

There was white noise and a blank screen for only a moment when what looked like a commercial came on.

 

A woman with a huge smile on her heavily makeuped face waved at the studio audience.

 

“ _Hello_ there fellow hunters. Do you find yourself _struggling_ to get out hunting stains? You try and try but you just can’t wash out the blood and monster guts? Am I _right_? Mmmhmm. I know. I’ve been there. It’s _terrible_ but don’t worry I have the solution. Here is Tricks-O-Matic. And it really does the trick. You wanna see?”

 

She holds up what looks like Dean’s shirt, the raspberry plaid shit you could have sworn you just put in the washer. You walked over to the washer and looked for the red shirt not finding it. Tons of greens, blues and blacks but no dark red plaid shirt. Huh.

 

The woman in the commercial poured a very bright blue substance on it that had the consistency of paint. You shuddered to think what’s going to happen and how you would explain it to Dean. The second she put the substance on the shirt; she dunked the plaid shirt in water. Then she wrung it on a little and then held it up like a champion belt at a wrestling tournament.

 

Of course the shirt was wet but there was no mistaking that the stain was in fact gone.

 

“That’s right. One, two and _gone_. No _matter_ the stain, Tricks-O-Matic will get it _out_. Tough on stains, gentle on your skin. So next time you’re leaving for a hunt remember Tricks-O-Matic. It _really_ does the trick.”

 

You chuckled at that. Ridiculous the levels you boyfriend would go to, to entertain you but you had to admit, it was working. The commercial was clever and he did get out those monster guts for you that you were sure the washer never would. Dean would be quite impressed with you.

 

The catch-phrase was pretty awesome. Tricks-O-Matic indeed.

 

The TV went blank again, white noise coming out of it for only a few seconds until a soap opera come on. The title flashed across the screen, “Angelic Lover.” Oh how very subtle right? That was your boyfriend, the archangel of subtle.

 

A woman ran into the screen, her eyes puffy as if she was crying. “Luke?”

 

A man that looked just as tall as Sam came onto the screen. “You should be with the angel,” he said in a gravely voice.

 

“What? “You’re supposed to talk me out of it.” The woman said in a hitch-pitched and rather nervous tone. “You’re supposed to make me marry you. That’s what our parents want. You’ve lusted after me for years, now desperate to claim me as yours but you will never have me.”

 

“How can you be sure I’m Luke?” the man asked with a quirked eyebrow smiling at her.

 

“Who are you then?” the woman asked apprehensively as she slowly stepped away from him.

 

“Can you not recognize the man you love? I am your angel, my darling,” the man confirmed, his arms outstretched.

 

“But you -.”

 

“Have the face of your enemy, I know. I got a face transplant to break into the mansion and get past the guards but it is I, my love. I killed your enemy. He is no more.”

 

The man took off his face revealing a completely different man. The studio audience went wild. As did the woman. She fainted into his arms, waking up a minute later. He looked down at her adoringly.

 

“It _is_ you,” she said in a soft voice.

 

“It _is_ me,” he repeated.

 

She looked at him again, growing nervous. It couldn’t be. She slowly stepped away from the man. “No. That’s not possible. We can’t be together. I’m a human. You can’t possibly love me.”

 

“But I do.”

 

“You do?” she asked incredulously.

 

“I do,” he confirmed.

 

“But what of my friends?” Gasp. “They…They…will not let us be happy. My father will never rest until you are dead. You must leave. We can never be together. We’re from two different worlds. We don’t belong together.”

 

“But we could.”

 

“Could we? Could we really?”

 

“Yes.” The man then grabbed the woman and kissed her passionately on the lips. She swooned and her legs fell out from under her before she fainted again into his arms.

 

You rolled your eyes. “A tad dramatic, no?”

 

The TV went blank again and then what looked like men playing a game of basketball outside came into focus. One of the players stopped playing and stepped up to the camera. The rest of the players were fuzzy and out of focus.

 

 

“Dramatic is better than being bored and you know what else is better than being bored? Taking twice daily Baldur. It cures the boredom right up so I can get back to doing what I love doing like playing ball.”

 

The commercial faded out as the men played basketball in the background. A list of side effects came onto the screen. Some caught your attention such as; intensive farting, love of anchovies, need for kinky sex, need for the Trickster, a deep yen to prank others, acid reflux, vomiting negativity, becoming more awesome, so awesome in fact that you can’t hang out with people wearing plaid. _That_ had you laughing. You were sure who it was now.

 

You glanced at the washer. Time to add more soap. The TV went blank as you put more soap in. You had to admit that this was making you happy and a lot less bored. You loved being with Gabriel and was hoping he would be able to visit you when the boys were away. The silence was deafening and you missed his assortment of entertainment. Sure enough, the second you sat back down, the TV came on again.

 

A black and white program came on called, “Tricked,” but the actors looked like the same ones that were on the TV show “Bewitched.”

 

“My friends will be here soon. No powers okay. You promised.”

 

“Of course I’ll be on my best behavior,” the man stated holding his hands up.

 

“Why don’t I believe that?” she said in a grumpy tone.

 

Smirking he replied, “I don’t know. I have an incredibly believable face.”

 

“Mmm hmmm.” The woman opened the door and she found two dogs on the doorstep.

 

“Your friends weren’t already dogs? Maybe they never showed and they sent dogs instead? Strays?”

 

The woman turned around and glared at him. He simply shrugged. “It beats them wearing plaid all the time. This is a new look for them and besides, they always ruin my fun and all I want is to-“

 

The screen went blank again. Talk about a cliffhanger.

 

An announcer came on waving at a studio audience that was clapping wildly. “Welcome to Dance Wars: Laundromat. We have Y/N and Gabriel, returning champions. Can they keep the throne? You’ll have to tune in and watch.”

 

You looked at the TV confused. You felt a shift in the air behind you and then what felt like a gentle kiss placed on the back of your neck. You jumped and he laughed a warm laugh. His breath fanned over the back of your neck.

 

“Did you really not guess it was me? I mean I thought I was being pretty obvious. I’m kind of offended. Who else would dedicate all this time to making you smile? Fenrir and Baldur? Hello? Trickster? Loki myth.”

 

You smirked. “I knew it was you from the beginning. From those clues.”

 

“Aren’t you clever cupcake?” Gabriel grabbed you around the waist, rutting against you, pressing his hard cock against your ass. “How am I doing about making your day better? I thought I heard laughter and I definitely saw smiles.”

 

“You’re doing a wonderful job as always.”

 

Gabriel twirled you around and brought you back into his waiting arms and then out of nowhere swing music appeared and you danced around the laundromat.

 

A customer tried to come in to wash their clothes and saw you both dancing. He tried the door but it was locked. You gave Gabriel a look.

 

“This is our time,” he pleaded with you.

 

You rolled your eyes. “We have all day; and if you’re free, all week. Let the poor man wash his clothes?”

 

Gabriel sulked.

 

On the next twirl, you spun away from him, unlocking the door and spinning back into his arms. Gabriel’s frown only intensified. He dipped you and gently ran his hand down your face to your collarbone. You let out a shaky breath at the tender touch. He righted you and grabbed you closer to him as he kissed you passionately. You chose to ignore the customer who looked at you both uncomfortably.

 

“Why didn’t you call for me?” Gabriel implored.

 

You shrugged, suddenly feeling silly. You should have called. “You’re an angel. One that’s trying to keep a low radar and you have angel stuff to do that is definitely more important than preventing a human from being bored.”

 

“No. Okay yes. I am trying to hideout. Dear old Dad and Luci need to think I’m dead. I plan on staying out of the whole epic battle. And yeah there may be some angel tasks and just desserts I have to attend to from time to time, but you and only you are the most important thing to me sweet cheeks. No angel business is more important than the love of my life. Anytime you want me, please let me know. If I could, I would never let you go. But I know you love the Winchesters and you hunt. I know but I would want to be with you every second, if I could. And _hello_ Trickster here: curing boredom is _kinda_ my speciality. “

 

“Can you forgive me?”

 

“Always.”

 

The random dude in the laundromat was eyeing you two weirdly. Did he hear your conversation or did he just see the massive amounts of PDA? Whatever the reason, you pushed on Gabriel's chest to release you from his arms. He disconnected with you slowly after a lingering glance. You slowly took out mountain of clothes from all the washers. Gabriel proceeded to grumble behind you.

 

Gabriel whispered into your ear, “That guy there will never know. He’s not even watching us right now. Why can’t I just snap my-.”

 

“He’s giving us side-eye. He is most definitely still watching us. Why not show him you have magical abilities? Why could possibly go wrong?”

 

“I’m sensing sarcasm in your tone.”

 

You smirked back at your boyfriend. “Hey, I have an idea - why don’t you just turn him into a dog?”

 

“Don’t give me any ideas.”

 

You shook your head at your boyfriend and slowly left the laundromat. Gabriel happily held open the door for you. The second that you were clear, no one on the road and the man from the laundromat couldn’t see you, Gabriel snapped his fingers and you got back to the bunker with all the clothes there, clean, dry and in everyone’s respective drawers. You looked down to see the both of you naked.

 

“I might have another idea on what to do to cure boredom.” Gabriel said in a playful tone

 

“Do you now?” you asked in a seductive tone.

 

“How long are the boys away?”

 

“A week.”

 

Gabriel’s smile was huge. “We could fit in a lot in a week.”

 

“Well, what are you waiting for tiger? Come get your girl.” He pounced on you like a lion and you squealed and giggled when he tackled you to the bed. A week with Gabe never sounded better.


End file.
